


he took the days for pageant

by dancebreaknervous



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancebreaknervous/pseuds/dancebreaknervous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Ross is done playing with lies. He'll let them play with fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. he fell in love with the sun

Ryan Ross has a lot of things on his mind.

He watched his new album’s analytics the day it dropped for nearly four hours. Patrick had called him earlier to warn him not to get excited on the first day. But that's another emotion entirely. Ryan had watched the bar climb maybe one inch, then promptly shut the computer.  
He figured he'd be getting a call soon. Brendon. He didn't want to answer to that shitstorm; it was one lyric, but he knew everyone would take it and run. And Ryan felt powerful. It would be less fun if they were playing with lies, but each of them was playing with fire, a fire that went out with harsh words and tears shed almost ten years ago.

When Patrick called Ryan for the first time, it was to apologize. Not for anything he'd done, for Pete. Which made Ryan laugh. “Pete isn't doing anything wrong,” Ryan had said, a bitter smile plastered to his face. “-he's doing everything right.” With that, he left Patrick hanging, hanging up and flinging his phone at the wall. Pete was never his friend, he decided, opening the bottle of whiskey that he knew would be gone in a hour. They were just two creative minds fueled by depression and loneliness. Except Pete got what he wanted, he got Patrick. Ryan got a closed door and an angry phone call and empty liquor bottles next to his bed.

The most recent time the phone rang and it was Patrick, Ryan was bitter, telling him to fuck off promptly. He was also a little drunk. Scratch that, definitely drunk. The most recent time it'd rang in general was Spencer. He let his old best friend leave an awkward message, all “uhm” and “ah” and “call me back”. No wonder he was worried, the last track explained everything. For fuck’s sake, it named him.  
Brendon called later. He left an angry voicemail about the fans and Ryden. Ryan would never answer that either. 

Ryan was just finishing the third bottle when Dan pulled up. He crawled under the bed and let Dan think he wasn't home, muttering something about the liquor smell and leaving with Dottie like Ryan had asked. Well, Ryan had only asked him to overnight, but Dottie was safe and would have somewhere to go. 

When Ryan Ross was dead, there was a funeral. Everyone was there. The silence could be cut with a knife, but none of them carried anymore. Ryan was buried with his. Spencer had planned the funeral, and he figured what put Ryan there would go with him. They buried him with a Gibson, the knife, and an unopened letter from Pete. When Ryan was six feet under, Brendon started to cry. “‘s my fault,” he said quietly. “All mine.”  
Pete had shook his head, letting Patrick cry into his neck. “No, Brendon, I do believe it was all of us.”


	2. a casual affair, could go anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon

Brendon has a lot of things on his mind.

A pained glance at the door brought the events of last night to the front of his mind. 

Ryan and Jon had been separate from Brendon and Spencer since they had scrapped the album. He should have seen it coming.

He certainly didn't.

When Ryan and Jon had said they were leaving, Spencer hadn't said anything. Maybe he'd hoped they'd take him too. 

They didn't. 

Brendon had cried. Gotten high. Drank. Stared at the car leaving the hotel. 

Passed out. Woken up. Stared at the door.

Ryan's new music was great. Too great. The lyrics were too familiar. His name was too familiar in the last track. The phone call was angry, a few harsh words and an insult before he hung up. 

He got the phone call that night. Ryan still had him as his emergancy contact. 

Now Ryan was dead. And it was everyone's fault, but his alone.

**Author's Note:**

> dead


End file.
